Moonspear [m] the suspension of disbelief

Her reaction felt like tacit permission, and Kindle was ready to press his luck. If she wanted to feel wanted, well, he was in hot pursuit. He leaned a millimeter closer, only to be stopped in his tracks by a minute shift in her expression.

The answer shift in his own was much more apparent. His eyes lost only a little of the haze that had come over them, but his brows lifted in a dubious, speaking look. It said, Girl, I know. But he kept the thought silent, not least because she'd asked to be addressed as woman if he couldn't be bothered to use her name.

He waited, not quite patiently, but respectfully. As respectfully, at least, as he could be without giving back an inch of the personal space he'd stolen from her.

"Tell me," he invited.